


give it up (first times is best times)

by loafers



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loafers/pseuds/loafers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wants Nick to fuck him.</p><p>Or, alternatively, "like fucking wasn't fucking until he was fucking Harry Styles".</p>
            </blockquote>





	give it up (first times is best times)

**Author's Note:**

> big love to my main boo [lookingatstars](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingatstars/) for reading my shit over :))
> 
> (originally posted [here](http://tirewrite.tumblr.com/post/31111371194/harry-nick-3000ish-words-explicit-harry-wants)!)

“Hey, will you fuck me?” Harry breathes hard against Nick’s shoulder. Nick’s hand stills on Harry’s dick where he’s been jerking him off perfectly well. He thinks, perhaps, he’s misheard Harry; he couldn’t have possibly said what Nick thinks he has heard him say.  
  
“What?” Nick asks and pulls his hand out of Harry’s half shucked underwear.

“I think, yeah,” Harry pauses to swallow so his voice comes out less shaky. “I want, I want you to do it, to fuck me.” Harry's voice isdrawn out and slow. He pushes his own underwear the rest of the way down his thighs and wiggles around to kick them off the edge of Nick's bed.

The first thing Nick thinks now that he knows he hasn’t misheard, is that Harry’s having him on. It’s some kind of elaborate joke that he can’t possibly imagine the punchline to. Of course the second thought, almost concurrent with the first, isn’t really a thought at all but, a deep roll of arousal, a  _yes_ resounding loud and clear in his foggy, lust addled brain. Maybe his dick even twitches. _Christ,_ but he wants to. He can’t even imagine it, how it’d play out beyond his dick in Harry’s arse. There are things that need to happen first, complicated things. They’re going to have to put their bodies in positions and worry about technicalities like lubricant and like, Nick’s a little concerned his brain is too fried for that kind of effort and concentration. Nick had kind of hoped it wasn’t possible for him to get any stupider than when Harry has his mouth on his cock, but at Harry’s words he’s been proven wrong.

“I don’t know.” Nick’s hesitant, understandably so. What’s so wrong with a handjob, anyway? They’re quite nice, and they certainly get the job done. Harry seems to like them. Nick presses his hand against Harry’s chest and pushes him back to get some space between them. He looks him in the eye and Harry looks back at him steadily, flush high on his cheeks, lips wet and swollen, kissed bruised. He looks really eagerand so beautiful, even more so when Nick realises the look of him his own doing.

“Please? I,” Harry says, eyes wide and breath deep and slow, “I think you’d be good at it. I think I’d like it.” He’s just so calm about the whole thing. Nick would really like to make him break, make him beg proper. Make him regret ever asking Nick for more than he can really handle giving to him. He  _has_  thought about it a lot, about fucking Harry. So much so that the proposition just doesn’t feel like a reality, more like a hysterical fever dream. In a way he feels as if  _he’s_  the one getting fucked, being taken apart from the inside out by Harry’s words and the look on his face, just blatant, open desire.

“Have you ever done it before?” Nick asks and Harry shakes his head. _Interesting,_  Nick thinks. It's surprising - he’d always imagined Harry to be somewhat of a seasoned pro at this sort of thing. He surely carries himself like one. Nick reaches down to squeeze a handful of Harry’s arse and Harry squirms, getting in closer and tucking his face into Nick’s neck.  
  
“You’ve never been fucked?” Nick asks and curls a hand into Harry’s hair. He pulls Harry's face away from his neck, not rough or anything, it’s just that if Harry’s going to talk like this, Nick’s going to make Harry look him in the eye.  
  
“I mean, I’ve only,” Harry licks his lips, frowning, “just fingers, never, um.”  
  
Nick trails his fingers over the curve of Harry’s arse, letting them dip between Harry’s cheeks, but not with any real intent. Not yet. Harry shivers and presses back into Nick’s touch a little.“You’ve never had cock in you,” Nick supplies, smirking. Harry blinks and fixes Nick with a steady gaze.  
  
“Yeah, basically. So,” Harry pauses, smile creeping onto his face. “Maybe I'd like your  _cock_ in me.” Harry emphasises the word like he’s mocking Nick’s use of it, and that’s just it isn’t it? As soon as Nick’s starting to feel like he’s clawed back some semblance of an upper hand in the situation of him and Harry, Harry turns it on his head in an awful, effortless way. It leaves Nick lost for words for half a second (the rarest of occurrences), and feeling as if he might blush, not unlike a girl of twelve.  
  
“Christ, Harry. What would your dear, sweet mother say? Hearing you talk like that,” Nick frowns. _Of course_ Harry can dirty talk him under the table, he's so shameless about everything else how would this be any different?  
  
Harry quirks his eyebrow. “What would  _yours?”_  
  
“Oh god,” Nick groans and rolls away from Harry, covering his face with his hands. Harry collapses on him, shaking with laugher. “Now I’m thinking of my mum. Thanks Harold, definitely not getting fucked tonight. Naybe not ever.” That kills Harry's laugher a little, _good,_ thinks Nick.  
  
“No,” Harry whines. He swings a leg over Nick’s hips and pulls him back to him. Nick goes with it, lips curled in a smile as Harry pulls himself up to straddle his thighs. “Please, Nick,” Harry says as he leans down, kisses the corner of his mouth. Nick puts his hands on Harry’s thighs, fingers only just squeezing, just to really feel the taut muscle there. “Please, please fuck me. Grimmy, please,” Harry mumbles, smiling and pressing little kisses over Nick’s jaw and down his throat.  
  
Nick’s hands slide from Harry’s thighs around to his arse, hitches him up his body a bit. Harry squirms up Nick's thighs further until he’s in the right position to curl his long fingers around both of their cocks. Nick draws in a sharp breath and rocks his hips up as Harry rubs them together. Harry isn’t teasing anymore, the smug look gone from his face. His face is pure concentration now, eyes dark, lip caught between his teeth as he strokes them.  
  
Harry leans down and catches Nick’s mouth with his own, curling his tongue in to lick at Nick’s teeth. “Do you have any lube?”  
  
“What do you know about lube, Harry Styles?”  
  
“I know that we’ll need it if you’re going to fuck me,” Harry says against Nick’s lips, voice quiet and breathy. Nick feels a rush in his belly at Harry’s words and his hips jerk up, betraying him. Harry laughs.  
  
“See? You want to fuck me,” he says.  
  
“Shut up,” Nick mutters, annoyed, and pinches Harry's arse as retribution but Harry only huffs out a pleased breath.  
  
Harry leans in close to Nick’s ear, and whispers again, so smug and infuriating, “you want to fuck me."  
  
Nick groans, frustrated. He grabs at Harry’s wrists and flips them over, wrestling Harry into submission. Harry ends up under him, legs spread and Nick in between. Nick’s pins Harry’s wrists to the mattress either side of his head, his thumbs pressing into Harry’s palms. Harry’s teasing smile has dropped away again, replaced with a dark look that makes Nick’s breath speed up a little.  
  
“Ok, yeah,” Nick says. “Hold on.”  
  
Harry sits up and leans back on his elbows, watching Nick crawl to the other side of the bed to dig in his bedside drawer.  
  
“Do you have a condom too?” Harry asks, his voice beginning to sound less steady, just a hint of something in it. Uncertainty or something else that Nick can't place, but he can tell from the sound of him how bad he wants it.  
  
“Of course, yeah,” Nick says distractedly, digging further in the back of the drawer. It’s been a while, not that Nick is starved for sex or anything. It’s just usually his hook-ups are with drunk strangers he meets in clubs. It's a rushed handjob in a club toilet or blowjob in a stranger’s living room. He hasn’t dated anyone in a really long time. He certainly hasn’t met anyone in a long time that he’s been willing to go to all the effort of fucking with.  
  
The relief he feels when his fingers finally make contact with a condom makes him realise how much he really does want to fuck Harry, how disappointed he would’ve been if he’d not been able to find one.  
  
“Have to finger me first,” Harry says as Nick turns back to him, holding the condom up like it’s a prize he’d won by defeating his dark, impenetrable pit of a bedside drawer. He really should think about cleaning that out sometime. Not now, though.  
  
“I know that, thanks,” Nick scoffs and makes his way back across the bed on his knees.  
  
“Kiss me, please,” Harry says when Nick reaches him. He curls his hand around Nick’s shoulder and pulls him in.  
  
Harry kisses him hard and kind of desperate. It feels different to Nick, but he just gives back as best he can and strokes his fingers through Harry’s curls. “You sure?” Nick asks. Harry nods fervently, and takes the lube from Nick, uncaps it and takes Nick's hand, squeezing slick out onto Nick’s fingers. It’s as if all the noise has faded away in the room, only their breathing audible, harsh and quick with anticipation. The  _snap_ from Harry flicking the cap back on the lube almost makes Nick jump. Harry wraps his hand around Nick's wrist and guides his slick fingers down between his thighs.  
  
Nick bites his lip at the feeling of the heat of Harry. He’s determined to make this good. Harry’s hitching his thigh up, spreading himself for Nick and that makes Nick want to leave, to just get up and run away, because he feels so, well. He doesn’t even have the capacity to work out exactly what it is he’s feeling but it's too much for him, makes his throat tight and his heart feel too full. Harry’s watching him with dark, shining eyes and Nick just desperately,  _desperately_ hopes he won’t hurt him, not in a way that’d leave his heart marked up and bruised for the rest of his life. It shouldn’t mean this much to Nick, fucking. They’ve gotten each other off so much in the last week that it feels ridiculous that this should be any different. But it’s Harry, isn’t it? It’s just Harry pushing the boundaries and then ready and willing for the consequences when they break. Harry just trusts so much, that might be it. Nick doesn't want to break this awful trust he's placed in him.  
  
“You know, just, tell me if you want me to stop. At all,” Nick says quickly before he loses his nerve.  
  
“I  _know,_ please, just  _do_ it,” Harry says and bumps Nick’s shoulder with his knee, urging him on. Nick finally touches him, strokes him with slick fingers circling his hole. Harry hitchs his hips up, seeking more and Nick brings his other hand to Harry’s cock and curls his fingers around it, just aiming for gentle, reassuring pressure. “You’re being so gentle,” Harry says, his voice startling Nick a little. He’d been focussing so hard.  
  
“Shut up,” Nick grunts and starts to press inside, rubbing just the tip of his finger in and out a little before starting to push inside properly.  
  
“Yeah,” Harry gasps, “that’s it, more.” Nick obliges him and presses his finger in further, past the knuckle. Harry makes a little noise in the back of his throat and squirms back into it. “I  _have_  done this bit before, you can, like--”  
  
Nick just presses a second finger in alongside the first, without as much care, and it shuts Harry up, makes him groan. Harry nods mindlessly, reaching up to tangle his fist in Nick’s hair as Nick curls two fingers inside Harry and rocks forward to kiss him through it. It's more an excuse for Nick to close his eyes, the kiss. The look on Harry’s face is overwhelming and he needs a break from it. Kissing Harry isn't much easier on him, though.

The desire to kiss Harry is a constant in Nick, to a point where doing anything else feels a little pointless. He finds himself having to constantly fight against the weight of it, of fancying Harry and being  _allowed._ Having  _permission_  to touch Harry whenever he wants is barely manageable. It weighs Nick down as he goes about his everyday and leaves him hyper aware of his hands and Harry’s proximity to him at all times, mentally charting out the path to the nearest hidden corner he can crowd Harry into to kiss him silly in secret. Nick wonders, half heartedly, if it’s the clandestine nature of the thing that has him hooked. He hopes it is, anyway, and that it has less to do with Harry’s easy smile and warm hands.  
  
Harry tugs on Nick’s hair and shoves his tongue in Nick’s mouth in a way that strikes Nick as particularly greedy, but that’s the thing with Harry, he’s always just taking everything Nick’s offering and then demanding even  _more._  
  
"Feels really good,” Harry says breathlessly, his grip on Nick’s hair almost painful. It brings Nick out of it, having lost himself in Harry's mouth a little, and reminds Nick of the task literally at hand. Harry’s bucking his hips with each lazy, kiss-distracted thrust of Nick’s fingers even though Nick could be doing better. Nick knows he's better at this but it's incredible that Harry can be impressed by such a lackluster finger fucking.

“More?” Nick asks and presses his fingers deeper yet. Harry gasps and nods, groaning when Nick slides his fingers out of him and then pushes back in with a third.  
  
"That's it," Harry says, voice thick. His dick is hot and heavy and twitching under the hand Nick has on him, the one not fucking him. Harry curls his fingers over Nick’s on his dick and squeezes. “You should, like. I might come soon,” Harry says breathlessly, his voice burbling up from deep in his throat.  
  
“Go on,” Nick encourages him, quickening the pace by which he's fucking Harry with his fingers. He takes care to angle up, searching out the spot that he just knows will make Harry come undone and put this whole strangely emotionally exhausting thing to rest.  
  
There's a moment in which Harry just throws his head back and gasps. Nick can see the strain in him, can see his stomach muscles clench as he practically writhes. Nick can't take his eyes off him, so he doesn't miss it when Harry snaps his eyes open to look at him. The look in his eyes is glazed and desperate, eyebrows raised and knotted like he's ready to beg. Harry wraps his fingers around Nick’s wrist and squeezes, digs his nails in. “No, I want. Please. I don’t want to until you’re, like, inside,” he says. Nick groans, frustrated. It’s just a constant assault on him. He’s so hard and everything Harry does and says is like torture.  
  
Harry’s stronger than he pretends he is most of the time, which is a thought that's hotter than Nick would like to admit, that Harry just willingly surrenders control, and lets himself be manhandled however which way Nick wants. But the fact is, if there’s something he wants, Harry is  _totally_  capable of pushing Nick off him and getting him flat on his back without Nick having much say in the matter. Which is what he does now, only pausing once he's on top to rip open the condom and roll it over Nick’s dick, straddling Nick's thighs.  
  
“Wait,” Nick chokes out as he scrambles for the lube. Harry snatches it from him and shuffles up until his thighs are spread over Nick's waist. He squeezes lube into his hand and reaches back behind him to slick it over Nick’s cock, his touch less than steady. It’s satisfying to think this is maybe a little overwhelming for Harry too. It’s hard to tell with Harry, when he’s feeling too much. The past two years and the constant rapid soar to stardom has left Harry used to it, Nick supposes. Harry’s got his fingers around him and he’s  _rubbing_ the head of Nick’s dick against his arse and then Nick can’t think about much anymore except for how hot and tight it is when Harry finally, finally angles him in and starts to sink back onto his cock.  
  
Harry’s going really slow, but it’s almost too much, has Nick digging his fingers into Harry's hips hard enough to bruise. He concentrates so hard on forcing himself to be still, to stop himself from thrusting up into Harry like his body so desperately wants.  
  
Harry tips his head back, the long line of his throat exposed and eyes closed, his lips red and parted. It’s a bit of a show, Nick thinks, as he watches Harry’s mouth work at the air, gasping like he's drowning. Nick wonders if he’s being exceptionally porny on purpose or if he just naturally looks like that when he has a cock inside of him, almost wishes he had his phone within arm's reach so he could take a picture, just so he could make Harry look at himself like this. Show him what he has to deal with.  
  
Once Nick’s finally all the way inside, Harry opens his eyes to look at him. He shifts his hips in a little experimental motion, really just settling, but Nick still clutches at him and hisses out a strained curse.  
  
“Am I doing it right?” Harry asks and Nick chokes out a hysterical laugh. Harry slaps him on his thigh. “Don’t laugh, m’serious,” he grumbles, a frown creasing his brow.  
  
Nick rocks his hips up, shallow, but enough to make a point. It makes Harry’s eyes widen. “One generally moves a little more,” Nick says.  
  
“Like,” Harry leans forward and spreads his hands flat on Nick’s chest, bracing himself. He rolls his hips forward, thighs tensing to lift him. “Like this?” he does it again, more this time, shifting forward a bit more before settling back onto Nick’s cock.  
  
“Yeah,” Nick says, voice tight, “that’s good.” Harry’s face breaks into enough of a smile to dimple his cheek and Nick thinks about how he's going to have to have a talk with him one day. Sit him down and explain how fucking dangerous it is to be so very eager to please, how easy it’d be for someone like him to take advantage, fuck him up and leave him. But later though, maybe, when Harry isn’t rocking on Nick’s dick, starting to really lean into it.  
  
Nick moves his hand to spread in the dip of Harry’s back, pulling him down, urging him to arch into it and Harry moans at the way Nick shoves his hips up, pushing his arse back on Nick, greedy.  
  
They negotiate a rhythm together, not particularly hard, but enough that Nick’s thighs are shaking from how good it feels. Nick hates to interrupt how well their bodies are working together, but Harry’s  _face_ and he just really needs to kiss him, like,  _right now._ It’s an effort, but Nick thinks it’ll be worth it, heaving himself up to sit, gathering Harry close in his arms and kissing him. Harry's thighs are forced further apart by his new position on Nick's lap and he moans into Nick’s mouth, curls his arms around Nick’s shoulders to hold on like he wouldn't be able to keep himself upright otherwise.

They’re close enough now that Harry's dick rubs against Nick’s belly with each thrust into him. Nick fits his hands around under Harry’s arse so he can help him bounce on his cock easier. Harry practically ruts against him with short sharp little movements, no semblance of a recognisable rhythm but it works for Nick. It's better like this with Harry in his lap, he doesn't have to worry about the stupid faces he makes, can hide himself against Harry's throat and press his mouth there, open, wet and panting.  

“Nick,  _please,”_ Harry gasps and Nick has no idea what he could possibly be asking for, what he has left to  _give._  He scrapes his teeth over Harry’s throat and dips to suck a mark onto Harry’s collarbone. “Fucking  _touch me,_ ” Harry groans and he sounds so desperate that Nick’s a little shocked.  
  
Nick shoves a hand between them and curls his fingers around Harry’s dick, slick with precome. He barely has to jerk him at all before Harry’s gone. Harry presses his face into Nick’s shoulder with a sob, sounding so completely wrecked as he shudders through his orgasm. 

Harry goes all boneless on top of him then, so once he's wiped his messy hands off on his sheets, Nick has to manhandle Harry onto his back. Harry scrunches up his face as Nick's cock slips out of him in the movement. "Sorry," Nick grunts as he lays him out.

Nick likes the look of him, all spread out and just fucked. It's a good look for him, with his his own come smeared all over his belly. Nick thinks he might like to add some of his own to it. He goes to pull the condom off but Harry shakes his head, pulls him in with a leg hooked around his waist. As Nick gets close enough, Harry bends his knees up to reach down and grab Nick's cock. "Inside," he croaks, and guides him back in. 

Nick watches his cock slide back into Harry's arse, smooth and easy. He’s not even really thinking now, he just really wants to come. Nick hooks his arms under Harry’s knees to hold his legs out of the way as he fucks into him, once, twice, and that's all it takes for him to come. He spits out Harry's name and shudders a curse as he squeezes the backs of Harry's knees from the feeling of it. Harry moans Nick’s name weakly and reaches up to rub Nick's shoulder a little half heartedly, like he can't be bothered putting in any real effort anymore, but Nick appreciates the gesture all the same.  
  
Harry stretches out his legs as Nick pulls out of him and rolls to the side, staying close enough that their sweaty sides still press together. They’re both panting and Nick feels like he’s just fucked someone for the first time again, like fucking wasn’t fucking until he was fucking Harry Styles. His hands are clumsy and a little shaky as he fumbles the condom off and drops it off the side of his bed. _Disgusting,_ he thinks, but he’s too wrecked to do anything else. Harry knocks his knuckles onto Nick’s chest, hand flopping on his wrist like he doesn’t even have the energy to make it work properly. Nick knows how Harry feels, he can barely keep his eyes open let alone make his limbs work.  
  
“I always thought it’d be good,” Harry pants, “but never, I had no idea it’d be like  _that.”_  
  
Nick laughs in the back of his throat, amused by the note of awe in Harry's voice. He turns his face to brush his smiling mouth against Harry’s sweaty forehead. “Glad you enjoyed it, love.”  
  
“We have to do that all the time now,” Harry says and Nick laughs. “I’m serious. We have to do it again in, like, ten minutes.” He seems to get himself back a little then, or at least enough energy to roll over half onto Nick and tangle their legs together.  
  
“Harry, I’m  _old,” N_ ick says, fixing him with a stern look.  
  
“Don’t be stupid. Kiss me,” Harry says as he squirms up to press their mouths together. As much as Nick would like to protest, Harry feels quite nice, so he just twists his fingers in Harry’s hair and lets himself be kissed.  
  
“Leave me  _alone,” N_ ick whines into Harry’s mouth.  
  
“Ok, fine, have it your way.” Harry rolls away from him then and sits up on the edge on Nick’s bed, facing away from him. Nick watches the curve of Harry’s spine and reaches out to press his fingers against Harry’s skin. Harry turns to smile over his shoulder at Nick and stands. He shakes his fingers through his hair and stretches his arms over his head, arching his back. “Oi, sleepy. Might have a shower,” Harry says.  
  
“Mm’kay,” Nick mumbles, arm thrown over his eyes.  
  
“Should join me,” Nick hears Harry say from the doorway. It’s a tease. Nick sighs heavily and decides to make Harry wait for his inevitible surrender. Hopefully long enough for Harry to begin to second guess himself. The kid's got way too much confience, more than Nick had at eighteen anyway. He waits to hear the water running and the shower door sliding shut before he decides it's time enough. He drags himself out of his bed to follow Harry and in the bathroom, Harry's set out a towel for each of them like he never doubted himself at all. 


End file.
